Winter Always Leads to Spring
by GabyGummyBear
Summary: Clarke needs time to grieve and be alone. What she didn't expect was that Bellamy's memory would follow her relentlessly. Bellarke Canon Divergence (Linctavia as a delicious side dish :D)
1. Chapter 1

**Winter Always Leads to Spring**

 **Summary:** Clarke needs time to grieve and be alone. What she didn't expect was that Bellamy's memory would follow her relentlessly. Bellarke Canon Divergence

 **A/N:** I don't know where this came from, but I'm excited about it. This is set after the Season 2 finale. Enjoy and don't forget to let me know what you think :D

* * *

Chapter 1: Heal

She camped out by a grounder village that night, the people knew her, and did not try to attack her. It didn't surprise her really, the kindness of the people. Some of them felt she had a part in freeing their people from Mount Weather. When she walked up without any supplies, they offered her some, skins, furs, food, among other important things she had ignored when she fled camp Jaha. She didn't know what her plan was, but Clarke knew one thing, she couldn't go back. At least not yet.

The days went by slow at first, dragging on from the time the bright sun came up – Clarke hadn't had the time to appreciate the sunrise since she had landed, but she did now – until it set, leaving her in the dark, alone. The pattern of the sun and the moon, revolving around each other set her at ease, it was the only thing constant on the ground. The trees and plants changed, and the dirt did too. The color of each leaf was different, but the sun and the moon rose each night.

It had been a week by the time Clarke noticed the moon cycle in a significant way. That night she panicked, and a sobering thought ran through her head: she was alone, in the woods—woods full of grounders, whether violent or not—and it scared her. Numbness gave way to emotions that had been held back behind a dam of self-preservation. Clarke allowed herself to grieve that night. She grieved for the Clarke she used to be before her father got floated. She grieved for the Clarke that surfaced when they landed on the ground, and helped her people. She mourned the people whose lives she had to—chose to take. And she grieved for the friendships she'd left behind at Camp Jaha.

Clarke had formed strengthening bonds, partnerships with the delinquents of the ark, a title that had become more of an honor one than a mark in the disappointment column. Raven was amazing at what she did, and even after Finn, they somehow made it work and got the 48 out of Mount Weather. Octavia had trained with Indra to help. Jasper had worked with Maya from inside Mount Weather. And then there was Bellamy… Her _partner_ Bellamy, who risked everything to be the inside man, who pulled the lever with her, who asked her to stay. But she couldn't, she had to free herself from the mental prison that plagued her. She had to roam outside of her comfort zone to grieve, to let herself break down without the weight of everyone watching her, and to put herself back together.

As the moon got smaller and smaller, Clarke began to miss her people more. She cried more, felt more. The pain that clutched at her heart and the screams in her thoughts became louder as she travelled through the woods. Each day was a struggle, and gathering fruit and game with snare wasn't cutting it. She hadn't caught anything with her snares in a week, and she felt the weakness oozing through her bones and saturating her with exhaustion. She was starting to miss Bellamy and his game hunting parties, when she spotted a village about a mile down the hill. Smoke fluffed into the air from its center and she could she cabins made of what looked like wood. Praying that the Grounders of this community were not part of one of the clans that opposed the former alliance between the Tree People and the Sky people, Clarke approached cautiously, light on her feet and careful to hide herself in the bushes.

She realized, once she looked at the village, that it was a mix of hunters, farmers and warriors. A self-sufficient township with guards, and a common market square, where a massive bonfire lit the faces of its people. Clarke decided that approaching the people at nighttime was probably not her best option, either they would be startled, or they would be defensive, so she climbed a tree with thick foliage and sturdy branches, made her self secure with a few knots on a rope, and even though she was shivering, she called it a night. She tried to steady her breathing as the faces of the people she had murdered danced behind her eyelids and after sometime, she fell asleep.

* * *

A sharp sound, a whoosh, woke Clarke in the early daylight, startling her. A thud near he leg made her look down and she met eyes with a bulky grounder covered in skins and furs, his arrow carefully poised on the thick bow he held. He raised it and aimed at her again. His voice came, harsh and low, "Who is up there? What do you want?"

"Stop shooting!" she exclaimed, as she hid further behind the tree and untied the rope, "I'm Clarke! Of the sky people, I mean no harm."

A silence followed, and she dared peek around the rough trunk of the tree. Three others, a young girl among them, flanked the burly man. The girl stepped forward with her hand on the knife at her hip. "Clarke of the sky people," her voice came, "Come down and explain yourself."

She must have been somebody's second. A very important second, because the men lowered their weapons, and waited. Clarke closed her eyes, dropped her head back on the tree with a 'thunk' and sighed. At least they were giving her the benefit of the doubt.

"I'm coming down," she stated loudly, gathered her things, and began climbing down. After a minute, Clarke jumped down from the lowest branch, landing on her feet sturdily. She met the girl's eyes with confidence and a fearlessness that had only surfaced in Clarke after she had come to the ground. Her blue eyes stared back at Clarke's, and a smirk pulled at her lips. She turned and said something in their language to one of the younger men with them, he nodded and padded off quickly back to the town.

"What are you doing here, Clarke?" the girl asked.

Clarke lifted an eyebrow, questioning the girl. Did she know her? She must've heard about her when the alliance was still standing.

"Just passing through," Clarke responded simply.

"Well, I'm afraid you're going to have to get permission from our commander if you'd like to pass through here," she grinned mockingly.

Clarke felt her face go stiff and pale. _Commander?_ Was this where…

"Come with me, Clarke of the sky people." The girl commanded. Clarke eyed her warily but followed her once she started moving toward the town. Her mind was racing with anxiety and she felt her chest tighten, but when she stepped through the doors and saw _her_ , heat exploded within her and she found anger was her primary emotion.

"Lexa," She spit. As always, Lexa's face remained emotionless and distant.

"Clarke," she said calmly, "What are you doing here?"

Clarke sucked a breath in through her dried lips and narrowed her eyes, "Like I told your girl here, I'm just passing through."

"Where are you heading? On another mission to save your people?" The blue-eyed girl asked sarcastically behind her.

"Sasha," Lexa cut in with a warning and looked at Clarke once again. "My second has not learned to hold her tongue as of yet."

"A new second? She suits you." Clarke mumbled, annoyed.

"Leave us." Lexa commanded and the room cleared out. A staring contest began between Lexa and Clarke, and when the commander finally opened her mouth to speak, Clarke cut her off.

"You don't have to explain. And I know you're not going to apologize. So cut the crap and let me go."

Lexa fisted her hands at her sides and lifted her chin unapologetically. Clarke let out an annoyed chuckle and crossed her arms, a hardly amused grin pulling at her lips.

"For some reason, I actually thought you would help me with Mount Weather. But I should've known better. Either way, you got your people out, and I got mine. There's nothing to discuss."

"I see you've taken some of my advice."

"What's that? Advice?" Clarke spat. "There was no advice. There was example. Example I chose to follow and now regret."

There was more silence, and Lexa turned around to face a table with drinks.

"I heard of the people in Mount Weather. They're all dead, it seems." She stated. Clarke stiffened, digging her nails into the worn leather jacket at her sleeves.

"Did you do that?"

"That's none of your concern." Clarke hissed. Lexa gave Clarke a side eyed look and drank some of whatever she had in her metal cup.

"Did you leave your camp?" Lexa questioned Clarke again, and she about had it.

"You know, I don't think you have the right to ask me any questions, Lexa. You got what you needed out of our alliance. You got your people out of Mount Weather and got rid of the threat from the reapers. You have nothing more to obtain from me. I think I've said what I had to say. Now, if you're done interrogating me, I'd like to gather some supplies and be on my way." Clarke's voice sounded tired, but not defeated. She was done with Lexa, and the commander could tell. Nodding her head slightly, Lexa turned to face her and called her guards.

"She is free to roam. She won't be staying long," She eyed Clarke, "Be sure to let our people know."

The guards nodded and stepped out once again, but Sasha stuck around.

"Clarke," she added, "Take care." She nodded at Lexa and gave her one last sweep with her eyes and stepped out of the cabin. Clarke felt a weight lift off her shoulders, and she sighed.

She gathered the few things she had at the door of the cabin by a guard, and headed to the market. Now in daylight, she could see the richness of the fruits and vegetables laid out in tables and baskets. She traded a few trinkets for some fruit, and after roaming passively while people eyed her suspiciously, Clarke made her way out of the large town. When night hit, she was ways from her encounter with Lexa, and further even from any comfort. She thought putting closure to that part of her mess – because what she had in her hands was a mess of her own making – would relieve her, but the gnawing in her stomach wouldn't stop, and she realized in that moment, that Lexa's betrayal was the last thing in her list to lament. She was still plagued by the deaths she had caused and the innocent lives she had taken. Maya's face haunted her dreams that night, and Clarke woke up sobbing. She found herself wishing she were on the dropship with Bellamy, Raven, and Finn. With Jasper, Monty, and Octavia. Before the ark came down, and before the grounders were a real threat. She clutched at her knees as she sobbed silently, and looked up at the sky, searching for the ever constant stars. They were always there, just like her friends back at camp Jaha.

She wondered how much her mother missed her. She thought of Raven, and her sassy comments. Of Octavia and her strong will. Of Bellamy, and his permanence. Had he moved on okay from what they had done? She hoped he had. He was strong and he could endure the hardest of times. 'I wonder if he's been allowed to lead,' she pondered. He was so good at it and the rest of the kids looked up to him.

Clarke fell asleep again remembering Bellamy's words: "Please come inside."

* * *

Another two weeks passed, uneventful. Clarke would maintain herself with fruit, mushrooms, and legumes she picked, as well as the few animals she caught with her snares. She passed a river or two, but Clarke couldn't fish, and though she wanted to, she had no idea where to start. At night, she would build a fire and stay around it, to ward off any uninvited animals. So far, she'd been lucky to encounter none. Some nights she'd sleep soundly, others, she'd dream of the dropship and her closing its door on Bellamy and Finn. Or of the grounders she killed. But worse of all, she'd dream of Mount Weather. She'd dream of Bellamy's guilt and hers too. She'd wake up thinking of him, wondering if he was dealing okay with it all. Clarke remembered his last hug all too well, and the rough shadow of his beard against her lips as she kissed his cheek thank you and goodbye.

To distract herself, Clarke would take baths in the increasingly cold water of a creek nearby and focused on building a shelter. The leaves on the once green trees were turning red, orange, and yellow, and Clarke started to wonder if she would last through the upcoming winter. Her snare caught just enough for her to survive, and she started noticing her hipbones protruding more and more each day, as well as her hands looking less plump.

"What am I going to do?" she mumbled to herself, as she thought of her cold unmoving body laying by some dying embers. They'd never find her. Abbey would live the rest of her days wondering where her daughter ran off to. Had she lived? Had she found civilization? Had she died?

In an impulsive moment, Clarke dressed herself and decided to leave her shelter behind. She had to find something. Somewhere to spend the winter.

She dragged herself forward for two days, almost starving when she found it. The trees were different here, taller, but more scarce. Underneath them, a cabin: small, but beautiful. She cautiously examined it from afar. The day passed and no one appeared. She was right to assume it had been abandoned.

When she reached it, she ran her fingers on the wooden door, pushed it. It was locked, but the shutter on the window next to it wasn't, and she climbed in. Quaint, but enchanting all the same, the cabin had a small kitchenette complete with counters, an unusable sink, and rusted utensils. On the other end, there was a framed bed with dusty blankets. For decoration, the cabin had been filled with cobwebs that glowed as the sun shone through a sky light.

Clarke smiled and set to work.

* * *

The next day, after Clarke had recuperated from hike two-day hike, Clarke hiked once again down the mountain, only to find herself met by the strangest sight. Once the trees dispersed, there was grainy dirt and a vast amount of water. So much that she could not see the other end. Minute waves lapped at the edge and Clarke stepped closer, laughing.

"It's so beautiful," she said to herself, and she breathed in the clear air. _Is this the ocean?_

She knelt by the water and cupped some in her hand while her knees became soaked. The water on her lips tasted salty, and she laughed again, knowing what it meant. Tears streamed down her face and she sat by the water's edge, enjoying the breeze that blew through her hair. She felt so infinitely free but so utterly alone.

Bellamy's face popped up in her mind's eye once again. "Bellamy… I actually miss you." She chuckled to herself. She hugged herself tight and imagined him sitting her next to her, looking out into the water and admiring the way the light reflected off of it.

The sobs came freely, and she felt relieved. She was finally feeling like herself again. The beauty of the world around her seeping in through her scars and filling her with calm. She sighed and smiled softly. She'd show Bellamy this spot some day. She didn't know when that would be, but she promised herself that she would.

Once she felt satisfied and completely calm, she walked around and looked for food. There was a few edible plants and berries around. There was also fresh tracks of animals, which encouraged her to set up a few traps. She decided to start rationing her food supply. Hopefully it'd last her through winter, and she'd survive.

That night she lit a fire, and once again, she fell asleep thinking of Bellamy, and his scent as she kissed his cheek and hugged him goodbye.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thanks for the feed back guys. I was asked to continue this story in Bellamy's POV which I was planning to do, so that's just a plus! I have ideas about including what Bob Morley has said about the Bellarke separation and how Bellamy feels about it. Also, THAT SPOILER PICTURE OF CLARKE!

The Inspiration for this chapter came from the song "Got A Little Drunk Last Night" by Eli Young Band. If you don't like country, you can just look up the lyrics. They're awesome!

Also, all of my chapters are un beta'd so excuse any typos or bad grammar.

Anyways, enough of my ranting. Here it is. Let me know how you like it!

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

 _I got a little too far gone_ _  
_ _Heart was talking way too loud_ _  
_ _I don't remember what I said_ _  
_ _I just remember breaking down_

A week had passed since Clarke had left camp, and though Chancellor Abby had drilled Bellamy with questions about her daughter, he was unable to answer any of them. He didn't know anything except that Clarke had left him to deal with the Mount Weather aftermath by himself.

Angry wasn't the leftover emotion Bellamy recognized as the days passed. It was more like, disappointment, hurt, frustration. His hands found themselves tangled in his hair way to often, fisting themselves until his scalp was burning painfully. He cracked his knuckles often too, and told himself that it was normal, that he was angry, and refused to accept the other emotions that overwhelmed him.

His nightmares, filled with faces of people he had lost on the ground and in the ark, kept him up at night, and he decided that no sleep was better than painful, fitful rest.

Three weeks after Clarke had walked away, Bellamy was on construction duty, a morning council meeting looming over his day.

"We need to place more people on hunting duty." Bellamy interjected, when Kane talked about rations. Abby gazed up at him, narrowing her eyes.

"We don't have enough guns to send people out," Kane responded as if the fact was obvious. It was.

"I get that, but winter is almost here. And even with rationing, the food we have wont last us til spring." Bellamy said plainly, placing his hands on the table. "We have some other weapons we can use. Knives, spears—"

"It's suicide," Kane interjected, "Our alliance with the tree people is done; they betrayed us. We can't trust them to be peaceful."

"The grounders will kill our people on sight." Abby provided.

"Our people have trained for months, they know how to use their weapons." He countered.

"It seems like way too big of a risk to take," said another council member.

"It's a risk we need to take." Bellamy pressed, "It's either we chance it out there, or we starve here."

A small silence followed, and Chancellor griffin met Bellamy's eyes again. She nodded and dragged her eyes to Kane. "He's right. There's nothing else we can do."

Kane's eyebrows drew together, but he didn't object to Abby's authority. "We need a plan."

"We'll send people in teams, the guns will go with the hunters, they need to go out further. And the people with more…" Abby paused, " _rudimentary_ weapons will accompany gatherers. They'll find berries, mushrooms, and things of that sort. They will stay closer to camp in case of any emergencies. We can start tomorrow."

Bellamy gave a sharp nod, "That's how we did it at the dropship." He said, and the memory of the last hunt that they led at the old crash site took him back to the time Clarke and Finn had been captured.

After the meeting was adjourned, Bellamy returned to the west side of the camp, to help with the construction of the cabins. His mind replayed the moment when Clarke ran into camp with Finn after being freed by Lincoln. Part of Bellamy wished the moment would repeat itself here at Camp Jaha, even under the current circumstances, Clarke was needed by her people. The other part of him, however, berated himself for being so weak and wistful. _She chose to leave us. We were too much for her._

The day wore on, and they only paused for water breaks and lunch. By the end, most of the foundations and beams of the cabins were up, and Bellamy patted a few backs without a smile. He sent the workers on their way and sat on a large rock to admire the day's work. He sucked in a long breath when he spotted Octavia walking toward him from the corner of his eye.

"Hey," she called. He turned his head and nodded at her with a tight smile. "Good work today," she smiled.

"Thanks. There was a lot of help."

"Good." She paused, looking at the cabins. She lifted a toned arm and pointed at one of the larger cabins. "That one is the clinic."

Bellamy tensed.

"I overheard the Chancellor talking about it with some guy earlier."

Bellamy nodded stiffly as he put his weight forward onto his elbows and placed them on his knees. He looked down at his hands and rubbed them together.

"When are you going to say you miss her?" She murmured. Bellamy sighed and stood up, starting toward his tent.

"Bell!" She called him and followed, "I know it hurts, okay? She left you here to deal with everything by yourself, and it sucks, but I know you miss her."

"I don't miss her. She left. That was her choice." He managed, staining his voice with that anger he so desperately needed to keep him alive.

"Bell, please." She pleaded, "Just let it out. I see you holding it in everyday. Its written on your face.

Leave it to Octavia to decipher his life for him.

"I'm tired, O. I'll see you at dinner." He concluded and beelined for his tent to gather some clean clothes, forcing himself to be angry instead of pained.

He took a turn in the make shift showers the engineers had built by the lake, washing himself off completely with some soap Monty had crafted and changed in his tent. He brushed his curls with his fingers, and sank on his bed with fatigue. He let himself drift off for a few moments and was at peace for a small amount of time, but flashes of blonde hair managed their way into his thoughts soon after, and the sound of her faded voice echoed in the back of his brain.

He was forgetting the sound of her voice.

 _That quickly?_ He panicked. He sat up and rubbed his face with his rough hands and groaned. The exhaustion of the day was causing the dam of his emotions to build up to the brim. He could feel the energy draining out of him and the impending spill of feelings that he kept bottled up. His willpower was diminishing by the second and he could feel the pain seeping through the cracks. Sucking a ragged breath, he pressed against his eyes with the hilts of his hands and tried to calm himself.

Bellamy strained against his muscles and got up to drag himself to dinner. He sat by himself at first with a stoic stace, but of course Octavia came to his rescue after a few minutes, Lincoln trailing behind her. He smiled gratefully at her, and she could tell he was struggling tonight.

Someone, Bellamy didn't see who, announced that there was fresh moonshine available, and Bellamy knew he was in trouble when he asked for a cup. He had started drinking more than he usually did. One cup led to two, and two led to… more? He couldn't keep counts straight, and there was no one to monitor him, since he usually got drunk in the pathetic darkness of his tent. But tonight he wanted to drink in the open, and couldn't bring himself to care, no matter that he was at the receiving end of a perturbed look by his little sister.

"this isn't what I meant by 'let it out,'" growled Octavia, but he ignored her and ordered another cup of Mooshine.

He mostly stayed out of the conversation until he witnessed Octavia giving Lincoln a loving look, and he suddenly found himself speaking, "You're all grown up now, O." He smiled, a slight slur in his words.

Octavia eyed him cautiously. "I think you're done for tonight." She stated.

"Me? Na. I'm good."

"You've had a long day, Bell. Lets get you to bed." She suggested, standing.

"What? No. I'm enjoying myself for the first time in a while." He slurred some more.

Octavia gave a pleading look to Lincoln and he stood and offered his hand to Bellamy.

"I don't need your help grounder," He spit viciously and Octavia seethed. They were supposed to be over that; Bellamy had already moved past all of his and Lincoln's animosity. But Lincoln stood unperturbed and continued to offer his hand to Bellamy.

"Bellamy, get up right now." She demanded. Bellamy shook his head heavily and took another sip of his cup.

"Where do you think she is right now, O?" He mused softly. Octavia rolled her eyes and moved to pull him up with Lincoln. He didn't object this time, and they led him to his tent.

"Do you think she went back to the grounders?" He asked, but he expected no answer. "I hope not. That fucking, what's her face? Comander Lexa,"

"Bellamy, please." Octavia pleaded as the walked to his tent. People eyed them suspiciously.

"Seriously, what the hell?" He said, "How could she trust her? I told her not to trust them."

He kept muttering to himself as they entered his tent and they sat him on his bed. Octavia knelt in front of him and brushed some hair back.

"Bell, get some sleep tonight, okay?"

Somehow, he seemed to look like a petulant child, pouting. He shook his head at her again. He knew he'd be plagued by nightmares as soon as he closed his eyes. And though the thought of blonde hair and blue-green eyes were haunting him at present, they'd cause him even more terror and pain in his sleep.

"Do you think she thinks about us, O?"

The concern on his voice was so thick, Octavia's face fell. "I'm sure she does, Bell."

Bellamy nodded and laid back on his bed, resigning himself.

He dozed off that night with her name on his lips.

 _Clarke._


	3. Chapter 3

Hello everyone! Thank you for reading up on my little story here and being patient. Anyway, this chapter's a little angsty... Yes, I'm aware it's all started out angsty, but hang in there! There's a happy ending in the works. Right?

As always, this story is completely unbeta'd, so sorry for any typos/grammatical errors.

Lets get to it. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 3

Clarke woke herself up with slight snore, and she stirred on the old, creaky bed. She pulled the covers up to her chin and shivered. Light shone through the windows and she told herself that there was nothing to do, and it was safe to fall back asleep.

When she woke again, the cabin had grown even colder, though the embers of the fire still glowed in the chimney. She dragged the blankets toward her body and wrapped herself in them as she stood. She made her way sleepily to on of the windows, and pulling back a thin curtain with holes, she was blinded by the brightness of the landscape. After her eyes adjusted, Clarke gasped and her brow furrowed.

The snow covered the ground lightly, enough to still see through it, but nonetheless there. It clung to the trees and plants, and it sparkled in the sun.

Clarke dressed quickly, eager to touch the snow, and throw it up in the air like she dreamed as a child. She stepped out, and a rush of cold wind met her, ruffling her hair and scraping at her cheeks. But she didn't care, she kneeled steps away from the cabin, and touched the ground with her fingertips as her knees became wet. She ran her fingers along the ice and flurries, and tried to pick up some of the white crystals, but they were harder than she thought they would be, and she dug her hands in with more force.

She laughed when she felt her fingers starting to grow numb as she played with the snow, and she missed her dad so much, it hurt. He would've died to see this… He died so she could see it.

Smiling sadly, Clarke shivered again and went back inside to search for warmer clothes. There were some coats left in a chest tucked under the bed, and she pulled them out to examine them. She sighed when she discovered the large holes in the seams, and her brain immediately went to Octavia and Bellamy, who knew how to sew and mend.

Clarke buried her face in her hands and shook of the nostalgic sentiment, making a mental note to search for needle and thread later. After all, she knew how to sew stitches, how much harder could sewing a coat be?

* * *

Bellamy was woken up one of the hundred outside his tent early in the morning. It was the third day of the hunting parties and, so far, they had done well. Abby had authorized a few more groups, 3 to be exact, to go out further into the woods and collect or hunt any food available. She had made Bellamy leader of the hunting parties, and the people weren't surprised.

Bellamy got dressed for the day, slung his rifle on his shoulder and set out to meet his hunting group for the day at the gates of Camp Jaha. He was exhausted, and sore from the long hikes, but he was being distracted, and that was nice for a change.

"Monty," He said, as he approached the gates, "What are you doing here? I thought you were helping Chancellor Abby with the medicine sorting."

"I was. But we got done yesterday. I figured you'd need some extra help finding berries, or whatever." He smiled, "Besides, I'm sick of being cooped up."

"Alright then. You're with me and those two over there." Bellamy pointed at the two people from the ark he'd hardly ever talked to. They walked out of Camp Jaha shortly after that and hunted a couple of rabbits throughout the day. Monty and Bellamy kept the talking to a minimum but even though Monty tried, a couple of references to Clarke slipped from his lips, and he regretted them immidieately when Bellamy's face would stiffen, his jaw clenching painfully. Everyone knew he was trying to keep going. He was trying not to linger in her memory, but he realized that it was impossible. He dreamt of horrible things, and had flashbacks, and the only thought that would calm him when he came back to, was the memory of Clarke's smile when she hugged him as soon as he walked through the camp's gate. The press of her body, the smell of her hair. It was the only thing that anchored him to reality. To missing her in the present.

When the sun hit the line of the trees, Bellamy gave the order and the headed back home, tired but grateful for what they had gathered. The rest of the groups arrived within minutes of theirs, all except for one. When they did a head count, Bellamy realized Octavia and her group was missing. _Damn it._ He'd been too damn busy thinking about Clarke, and he got distracted.

"Anybody know which way they headed out?" Bellamy asked loudly for the others to quiet down.

"They were supposed to be heading west," a man commented. "My wife was with them."

"We need to find them," Bellamy said to Monty.

"Bellamy, it's already dark, it's dangerous." He replied.

"Shit."

"I'm sure she's fine. Octavia is a badass. She can take care of herself."

Bellamy nodded, and the group dispersed. He sat yards away from the gates to wait for his little sister, on a table by the kitchens, and constantly took glimpses at the entrance.

Nothing.

Towards midnight, a group had gathered around the gates, camping out with moonshine and hushed voices waiting until something happened. Bellamy's mind raced, and he thought through every possibility and circumstance that could have Octavia running this late.

Suddenly, a guard gave an order and another opened the gate wide enough for a group of five to trickle in. Bellamy stood and walked pointedly towards Octavia, who was searching for him frantically until she met his eyes. Her steps sped and she reached him in seconds.

"Bell," she said breathlessly.

"What happened? Where were you?" He demanded. Octavia looked around and pulled him to a private corner of the camp.

"Bell, they're going to capture her. They know where she is."

"What?" He said, confused. A sense of dread boiled in his chest.

"Clarke." She explained. Bellamy's face fell. "There were tribesmen traveling west. We hid in a cave until they passed out."

"What tribesmen?" He spit, "Lexa's?"

"No, it didn't sound like they were Lexa's clansmen. They must be from another clan." She mused, "But they have people spying on Clarke and have a scout on her. They're gonna take her back to their clan's leader as soon as they get to her."

"Why do they want to do that?" He question, exasperation edging his voice.

"I don't know." She responded, "Leverage?"

Bellamy pressed his palms against his eyes, and sighed.

"Bell, we have to warn her," she said, "What if they kill her?"

"How exactly do you suggest we do that?" He couldn't even think straight. This danger looming over them endlessly had him exhausted beyond his wit. They wouldn't be able to reach her in time, by the time they got wherever she was, the clansmen would have taken her. Bellamy punched a wall beside him, startling Octavia, but she just shook her head at him and rolled her eyes.

"We're both quick Bell, and we can track. We will follow them, and if we can't warn her, at least we can help her."

Bellamy stared at her. "You stay here."

"No." She said, before he even finished the command. "I'm getting Lincoln and we're going. Gather your things and meet me by the gate."

Octavia walked away before Bellamy could argue, and a scowl set on his face. Since when had his little sister become his boss?

Regardless of the threatening feeling Bellamy got receiving orders from Octavia, he did as she asked, he went to his tent, gathered a light backpack of supplies and headed towards the gate.

Lincoln and Octavia were already waiting for him, and he assumed that they already knew this was happening before Octavia talked to him. It was in their plans since before they walked through the gates.

They set out in the darkness, using great caution, and left a message for Abby and Kane with the entrance guard. After a couple of hours, they approached the camp, and with hushed voices, they discussed where to hide and how far behind they should stay as to not be discovered.

"These people are aware of their surroundings," Lincoln warned.

"I'm aware." Bellamy said flatly.

"We stay behind for no less than a quarter mile. They're on foot, so we should be behind a few minutes." Said Octavia.

Lincoln nodded at her, approving of the plan, and Bellamy's lips pressed on a thin line but he nodded also.

"Get some rest. I'll stay on first watch." Bellamy said. Octavia smiled slightly at him and proceeded to cuddle up with Lincoln against a tree. Bellamy sighed and kept his eyes on the tribesmen. One of them was on guard, but he was far enough for his not to hear them over the noises of the dark forest. Bellamy wasn't worried, but he was on guard regardless. After all, that was his permanent emotional state.

* * *

The snow was freezing her fingers, but she didn't care. She scooped it again and packed it together and threw it at a tree.

Should she build a snow man? Should she make a snow angel?

The fun of the snow had melted away unlike the white frost Clarke was surrounded by and she just stood there, wrapped up in coats and scarves that smelled of old (how she identified the smell, she'd never know). She was cold inside and out, but she couldn't move. The paralyzing loneliness that clutched at her heart, spread through her body like poison, and her thoughts were blank. She just wanted to sleep for hours… or days. Whichever one made her forget about the blistered skin on nameless faces. Whatever made her heart quiet from the constant ramble in the back of her mind.

His curls, his freckles, his hands… they haunted her. She felt like the fire that burned for him inside her was tearing her insides, curling them up until all that was left was smoke, and the scent of it lingered, never to be washed away.

She heard twigs snapping and turned her head slowly to the sound. Clarke had seen the scout days ago, hiding in the trees when the first snow came. She tried not to make it obvious, but her knife was hidden in her sleeve ever since. Sleep deprived, she had waited to see when he'd attack, but when he failed to do so, the anxiety that overtook her strangled the life out of her. After several panic attacks every night quieted by her pillow, the energy drained out of her, and she gave up. She was a zombie, mindless, careless. She couldn't bring herself to worry anymore. She'd fight him off if that's how it happened, but he just waited in the trees and examined her each day. She knew what it meant. They were coming to kill her.

Tired, Clarke sat by a tree, and rested. There was nothing to do. No responsibilities. No reason to get up, build a fire, or eat.

No reason to wait for _him_. She knew he wasn't coming.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading. Review?


	4. Chapter 4

Hello everyone! It's been a while since I last posted, no? I hope this comes a good time. Thanks for putting up with all the waiting. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

With trembling fingers, Clarke drank the water she had boiled in the chimney of the cabin. Something was wrong. Her stomach rumbled for the tenth time that day, and it was not out of hunger. In fact, she could not, for the life of her, keep anything down. That rabbit must have been diseased. Or was it the berries?

She curled up on the cot again, and dragged in a ragged breath. What she wouldn't give for some comfort right now. She hugged herself and shivered. Should this be the last thing she experienced, she would regret being alone.

* * *

The snow was falling heavily and they were losing the tracks. Not to mention his fingers were numb, and his feet too.

"Just keep moving. As long as we keep moving we'll be fine." He said, mostly to himself.

"Bell, we're gonna have to find somewhere to stop. This isn't safe." Octavia said.

"We'll lose their tracks completely." He reproached.

"They've probably stopped as well. The snow is too heavy to go on. We'll catch up." Lincoln argued.

They were already behind enough. At this rate, they wouldn't be able to warn Clarke. This was a rescue mission.

"We are never gonna get to her in time. I knew this was going to be a long shot." Bellamy said. It seemed silly that hope was still a candle burning in his heart with all the craziness around them.

Octavia shivered and caught up to Bellamy. He gave her a look of determination, and whatever she had to say died on her lips. She set her mouth in a line and reached to hold Bellamy's gloved hand. They continued for a time, and reached a crevice along the side of the hill where the wind wasn't hitting. They settled down and built a small fire, enough to warm their hands for a bit.

After an hour or so, the blizzard died down, and some snowflakes made contact with the ground. They set off again after having some dry venison and headed the way they had last seen tracks.

"There!" Octavia whispered to Bellamy after a couple of hours, the sun was setting, and it was hard to see, but they could see the grounders climbing trees and being sneaky.

The three of them stopped and hid, keeping their eyes on the suspicious behavior the group in front of them displayed. Bellamy caught sight of a plume of smoke, and he saw some sort of construction about a mile ahead. When what he was seeing processed in his head, his heart began hammering.

"She's in there," He said, clutching at his chest. A mixture of relief and fear crept up his spine and he started lounging forward until Octavia pulled him back.

"Seriously, Bellamy, what is with you? Since when are you so damn reckless?" She protested, clearly annoyed. "I've always known you to be aggressive, but never stupid."

Bellamy shot her a glare and Lincoln huffed, trying to hold a chuckle in.

"I need to get to her before they do." He announced.

"Lets go around," Lincoln suggested, "If we follow too close they'll spot us."

Bellamy caught his gaze and nodded. They foraged quietly around the grounders, trying to find a path to reach Clarke before the grounders could. Even if they could just signal her, it would be better than nothing.

 _I'm coming,_ Bellamy thought to himself, and repeated it like a mantra.

* * *

Clarke felt half dead, but her ears worked just fine. She heard the crack outside the window and stiffened in her fitful sleep. Her eyes shot open and drew a breath in slowly.

The scout must have finally decided to get closer.

She sat up slowly, her head spinning with dehydration and lack of food. Whatever she had eaten two days before had her on the verge of death, or at least that's what it felt like. Either way, she'd probably be dead soon.

Another crack; he was getting closer. Clarke tightened the grip on the knife she kept in her sleeve and crept towards the window. She tried to be as sly as she could, but as she peeked an object crashed though the glass, shattering it into a million sharp pieces, a few which cut her cheek and forehead. She immediately covered her face and backed up against the wall. When she looked forward to examine whatever had broken her window, she saw a flame catching quickly and spreading onto her bed.

She gasped and stood, adrenaline surging through her veins. She reached for the gun tucked in her waistband and waited a few more seconds. A second arrow on fire hit a shelf of glass on the wall and shattered more of her new found home, igniting a curtain in the process. The fire was spreading quickly and the smoke started to drift towards her, making her cough.

Clarke covered her face with her scarf and found herself in a dire situation. The only thing keeping her from the grounder outside was on fire. She had to get out before the carbon monoxide clouded her judgment or she was burned alive. He was trying to draw her out.

A third arrow whizzed past her and she headed for a back window, opening it and jumping swiftly out of it, despite her condition. She stood and began to head towards the stream, but she was immediately ambushed by at least five men and though she could maybe take some of them down with her, she hesitated.

One lounged at her with nothing but a stick of some kind, and the doubt she felt dissipated just as quick as it had materialized. She dodged the intended hit and stabbed the man on the back, who stumbled forward, neutralized.

"Who's next?" She snarled, pointing her gun with one hand and holding her knife swiftly below it. The men circled her and it seemed like an eternity before the next two threw themselves at her. She managed to shoot one, but the other tackled her to the ground, attempting to pry either weapon from her. He straddled her and she took the opportunity to slit his throat. He let out the most disgusting guttural sound and fell over. She threw him off her and tried to scramble to her feet. Someone tackled her from behind, and she landed next to the bleeding man with a knee at her back. Her breath left her and she struggled for a second before someone kicked her gun away from her.

She was sure she was about to be dead when suddenly, the person at her back was shot and fell over.

"Get off her," a deep voice commanded with exasperation. She tried to get up, but it seemed she had hit her head in the fall and it took her a second to clear her vision and process the voice.

Her eyes widened all at once when her brain finally caught up and she gasped, Bellamy coming into view, with his assault rifle perched against his chest.

"Get up," He told her. _Of course he'd come in shouting orders._ It didn't matter; she felt relief washing over her.

She attempted to lift her weight off the floor with her hands, but she couldn't get her body to respond to her commands. He ran towards her and gripped her bicep, lifting. She finally got to her feet and stared at him for a second before he pulled her into him, pressing his lips at the crown of her head. She wrapped her arms around his torso and she breathed him in as felt the world come back around her. He knew they were in danger, but he couldn't help it. He just wanted to reassure himself that she was real.

"Watch out!"

Bellamy turned around to find a grounder coming at him with a knife. Two shots rang out and he was down.

"We have to run," he said, pulling her along, her fingers grazing his forearm.

"Where?" She yelled and slid her hand into his.

"There's more of them," He announced, and started running towards the front of the cabin, now smoking, with Clarke at his tail.

Then three of the grounders came out of the trees and pulled her back. One of them landed a blow at the back of her head with a club of some sort, and Bellamy turned around and shot towards the men, taking one down before more tackled him down and beat him senseless. Everything went dark after that.

* * *

His head spun and he groaned, not even trying to open his eyes. A deep, throbbing pain ebbed at his side, and he recognized the injury as a broken rib or two when he couldn't breathe. His hands were numb from being tied together. From what he could tell, he was laying sideways on what felt like a rolling wood floor.

He heard a grunt and a faint cry that he recognized as Clarke's and against his better judgment, his eyes shot open to find her through the blurriness.

They were in a covered wagon of some sort, moving, and Clarke was two feet away from him, laying on her side, facing him. She looked pale and there was a deep bruise forming on her forehead, as well as cuts on the left side of her face. He felt sick to his stomach at the sight, and sucked a breath in before he stared retching blood on the planks of the wagon. _Shit._ The anger boiling inside him made his vision blurry again.

Another pained cry came from Clarke and he spit before attempting to speak to her.

"Clarke," he said hoarsely. No response. "Clarke," he repeated, a bit louder this time.

She hummed and her face drew into a frown. He scooted closer, hissing in pain at the movement. Bellamy lifted his hands to touch hers, which were also tied.

"Clarke, answer me," he demanded in a rough voice, "you have a concussion. I need you to stay awake."

She parted her lips and breathed slowly, attempting to open her eyes.

"Clarke, look at me," He said, "look at me. _Please_."

That got her attention. The edge of concern in his voice. The quiet desperation that called to her. She opened her eyes slowly, squinting to find his figure blurry.

"That's it," he reassured her. She groaned in pain and a sob escaped her throat. Bellamy's stomach turned upside down at the sound of it, and the urge to hold her burned him. Just some comfort. He just wanted to give her some comfort.

"Clarke," he began, thinking of something to keep her awake. He refused to focus on his pain. If she fell back asleep, she might not wake up again. Her head lolled with the movement of the cart, and he wished he could put his arm underneath it to lessen the pain.

"What are you doing here, Bellamy?" she murmured, barely audible. He studied her face and sighed.

"That's what you want to say?"

She stared at him. Her eyelids fluttering with the effort to keep them up. _Stay with me,_ he thought and squeezed one of her hands with his.

"How about a 'thank you'?" He said sarcastically.

"We're tied up in the back of a wagon." She sighed, "There's nothing to thank you for."

He chuckled, and grunted when the pain at his side sharpened. He slowed his breathing, and took shallow gulps of air. "We're not dead," he declared, as if he expected praise for their circumstances. Of course, he didn't actually expect it.

"Why aren't we?" she mumbled, confused. Bellamy hesitated. They weren't trying to kill them. They were at least not trying to kill _her._ They wanted to capture her. He, on the other hand, was probably expendable.

"I don't know." He confessed. "But we won't be. Dead, I mean."

Clarke stared at him again, the frown on her face deepening. He fought the urge to pull her into him. He wouldn't be able to anyway.

"Octavia and Lincoln." He said, and she understood. They were either following them, or finding help. Probably both. Clarke nodded.

A long silence followed. Clarke was fully awake now, trying to hide her discomfort and stifle her moans.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

"I think so." She said plainly. She gazed into his eyes and warmth spread in her chest along with an unbearable feeling of guilt. "Were you coming to kill me yourself?"

Bellamy looked puzzled for a minute, and then scoffed. "Why would I do that?" he prodded.

Clarke sighed and closed her eyes. The moment changed around them. Something akin to hostility seeped in and Bellamy pulled back.

"Don't do that. Look me in the eye." Bellamy said.

Her beautiful blue-green orbs met his and tears slid over her face. Bellamy felt sick again. She didn't seem happy to see him. Granted, the circumstances were not ideal, but he'd take her company any way it came. He realized that she didn't feel the same.

"Why did you come?" She asked.

"Because of you." He stated painfully.

The wagon came to a halt and they forgot their feelings for a moment. They heard voices speak in Trigedasleng; they were stopping for the night.

It was silent between them after that. They listened for any clues of… well, anything, really. Eventually, Bellamy dozed off for a bit but was woken up by a coughing fit that caused him immense pain.

Clarke sniffled and looked at him.

"Are you-"

"My ribs. I think they're broken." He answered. She nodded. Another long silence built between them. He couldn't understand her reasoning. He had come for her and she wasn't happy. But then again, why would she be? She had left on her own accord and didn't even look back.

Bellamy started to feel heat simmering in his stomach, and not the good kind.

How had he been so stupid as to think she wanted to see him? She didn't want him to come for her. With the way she was acting, that much was clear. He knew his nightmares would be driven away when he found her, but he couldn't do the same for her.

"You should rest." She said. There was nothing left to say. At least not now. He was too tired. He closed his eyes again and fell asleep quickly after that.

* * *

That's it for this chapter. I feel like it's an awkward place to end it, but I had a really hard time with this one. It was one of those bridge chapters that connects other plot points. Anyway, thank you so much for reading. Leave me a review please, it encourages me to write faster :P


	5. Chapter 5

So it's been a while. I'm sorry about that. This chapter is a bit of a monster though, so I hope that'll make up for the amount of time that has passed. Anyways, ENJOY!

* * *

Chapter 5

"He's an idiot." She mumbled.

"He loves her." Lincoln responded. "We would've done the same."

"Except I wouldn't have run off on my own."

"Well, that's true. But you're not Clarke, you're Octavia." He smiled, and kissed the corner of her mouth. She scoffed, and then grinned at him. Octavia nodded and kissed him back.

"Don't you dare lose their trail." She warned. Lincoln chuckled.

"Wouldn't dream of it." He said, cradling her face in his hands, and running his thumbs along her elegant and fierce cheekbones. "Go. We'll need the help as soon as we can get it."

Octavia's face hardened and she nodded again. She kissed Lincoln and turned on her heel. She had to find Lexa's messenger. If the got the news of Clarke and Bellamy's capture back to her in enough time, they could organize a recue before the ice queen's guard reached them first.

Lincoln felt a sense of anxiety at the separation, but he was more than confident that Octavia could take care of herself. She'd be back to him in no time, and with help in tow.

* * *

Clarke woke with her cheek pressed against the wooden side of the wagon box. She immediately became aware of the throbbing headache that lingered on and took a deep breath, trying to steady her mind before the pain took over. After a few seconds, she glanced over at Bellamy, who laid on his back, staring at the tent top of the wagon. Clarke took some time to study his hard profile, and his cheeks, covered in freckles. Those freckles that crowded her memories. She took another deep breath, and he shifted his face to look at her. A stoic gaze met hers, and she felt a stab of pain in her chest.

"Hey." She said. He stared at her for a second and then lifted his eyes and his face back to the ceiling.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Clarke mumbled, and Bellamy looked at her again strangely.

"What? TMI?" She chuckled dryly. He just shook his head with a slight scoff. They studied each other for a few minutes, like they had done that night by the fire after being reunited. Clarke licked her cracked lips, and Bellamy shifted his eyes to focus on her lips.

After a few minutes, Clarke cleared her throat and some stalky woman came to let Clarke and Bellamy respond to nature's call in the snowy trees, and she tied them to one afterwards.

"Well, at least we know they don't intend to let us rot." Bellamy sighed, leaning into the tree.

"How are your ribs?" She asked softly.

"As well as could be expected after a day." He said flatly.

Clarke nodded. After a moment, she gathered up some courage and asked him again. "Why are you here Bellamy?"

He shut his eyes with a scowl and shook his head. "Again? Seriously, Clarke?" He looked at her with exhasperation in his eyes and her eyebrows drew together. The guilt that flooded her for leaving him was overwhelming, and it prevented her from seeing any good reason why Bellamy would come to her. She felt like she had betrayed his trust, he even asked her to stay and she had denied him the same solace that he'd given her when she asked _him_ to stay.

"Please, Bellamy, just answer me." The pain in her voice cracked a fissure in his heart, and he gave in with a sigh.

"I wanted to get to you before they did. Or warn you, at least. But we lost them in a blizzard, and I wasn't able to signal you."

She searched the depth of his eyes for the lie, but there was none there. So she nodded, and resigned herself to the cold that bit into her clothes where she sat.

"How's your head?" He asked.

She smiled slightly at him and told him that she was feeling better, though it wasn't entirely true. She dozed off for a while after the awkward conversation and Bellamy didn't make a sound. But eventually, she heard the dreaded words.

"Here they come," Bellamy warned, in his low voice. Her stomach clenched and she felt the adrenaline start her awake. Three men and a woman walked towards them, one of them holding Bellamy's rifle.

The grounders untied them from the tree, dragged them to the front of the wagon, and made them kneel.

"Where are the others?" one of them asked. Neither Bellamy or Clarke made a sound. "I know there's more of you," the man said, pointing at Bellamy. But the pair kneeled quietly, their gazes forward.

"You're not stupid enough to follow a group this big by yourself, are you?" Another one said. The corner of Bellamy's mouth tilted up a fragment of an inch, but it quickly flattened to match the line of his lips.

"Has he told you?" the first man rounded Clarke, "I bet he has. I bet he said he's here to rescue your petty ass." He spit.

Clarke's jaw tightened, she'd not give into provocation.

"Couldn't take care of yourself, sky princess?" he prodded, rolling the tips of her hair in his dirty fingers. Bellamy's gaze shifted slightly towards Clarke and her interrogator.

"Well, fuck me, aren't you two a pair of stubborn brats." The second one stated with a grin. "Let me tell you something," he said in Bellamy's ear, and then made his way to Clarke, "Tomorrow morning, the Ice Queen's army will be here. And they'll pay a hefty price for your head. Now, they said they wanted you alive, but they didn't say in what state…"

The dirty hands pushed Clarke's hair back and lingered at her neck, and she met the perpetrator's gaze with her vicious one.

Bellamy stiffened at the man's tone. He'd heard it before. In his old cabin, with his mom. The men that visited used the same one.

"Maybe we can share," said the one behind her, and sniffed her hair. Clarke's tension was visible, and she shook with anger.

"Don't you fucking touch her." Bellamy growled. Clarke's eyes shifted to him immediately. ' _I can take care of myself.'_

"Oh look, the sad puppy's jealous." One of them said, laughing. Bellamy's murderous eyes focused on him.

"Relax, asshole. We've no interest in the dirty sky whore." The one behind Clarke said, and he kicked her down with a foot at her back, she grunted at the impact. "Though I would like to see her beg for mercy."

Bellamy bared his teeth subconsciously at the men, and they just laughed at him.

"Tell me where the others are and we can make this quick."

"There _was_ no others." Bellamy gritted out through his teeth,

"I don't believe you."

There was a thud and Bellamy realized he'd been struck with the butt of his own rifle. Clarke was still pressed to the ground with a foot at her back. She faced him and grimaced when he looked back at the offending grounder. A thin gash sparkled with fresh blood on the side of his face.

"Tell me again how there was no one else." The grounder dared Bellamy.

With nostrils flared, and adrenaline rushing through him, Bellamy responded fiercely, "There was no one else. Just me."

Another thud, and a groan from Bellamy. This time, blood running from his nose.

"I'm gonna break this pretty face of yours, sky demon."

Bellamy lifted his chin in defiance, and the grounder struck him again. Clarke gasped and tried to push herself up to no avail, the grounder behind her kicked her down again, this time harder. She could feel the mixture of snow and dirt scraping her face.

Bellamy spit blood to the side, and looked at the grounder in the eyes. His face distorted horribly into a scowl and he struck Bellamy again, this time knocking him down.

"We'll see what you have to say tomorrow." The grounder spat at him, and gave a command to the other. "Put them up. I don't want to look at their faces."

The foot that held Clarke down was removed and she scrambled to get up and move to Bellamy, but before she could reach him, they were both pulled up and tossed into the wagon.

"Please, give me some snow." She requested at one of the grounders, before she shut the back doors on her. "I need snow!" she yelled, and pounded on them. She cursed under her breath and crawled over to Bellamy.

"Let me see," She said, turning him towards her, he fought against her. "Let me see, dammit."

She pulled his body to face her as best as she could with her hands tied, and she held in a gasp at the sight. It was a miracle his nose wasn't broken, but the side of his face would be swollen beyond recognition by night fall. Clarke ran her fingers through his hair, and held in a sob. The fool just had to come after her, didn't he?

"Is it that bad?" he whispered. She forced her face into a neutral expression, and shook her head.

"You'll be okay. Nothing you haven't been through before."

"Are you okay?" Of course the damn mother hen was worried about her instead.

"Not a scratch on me. I'm fine." She said, looking down at him. She settled with her back against the wall and pulled his head onto her lap, sighing. "We're always going to be in these situations, aren't we?"

He chuckled. "Certainly seems like it."

Clarke gazed at him with admiration. He was every bit as tough as she was. He would never give his sister away, or any of their people, as a matter of fact. She ran her fingers through his hair again for a couple of seconds and then wondered if the intimacy was too much. He groaned in protest when she stopped, and she decided that she didn't care because it was the only way she could provide him with some comfort at the moment.

She doesn't know when they both fell asleep, but she wakes up after dark, shivering, while her breath puffs in the air. Bellamy is passed out on her lap, and she checks the swelling of his face as best as she can in the darkness.

Then there's a strange sound outside of the wagon, and all of a sudden, the doors are being opened quietly. Clarke squints, as the light of the fire hits her directly in the eyes, and she hears Lincoln's voice say, "Come on, quietly."

Her eyes widen with recognition and Clarke shakes Bellamy. He wakes slowly. "They're here Bellamy."

He sits up, confused.

"Come on, don't make me carry you." Lincoln says jokingly, and Bellamy's head snaps in his direction. "Get up."

Bellamy grins, grabs Clarke's hand and they sneak out of the wagon. They follow Lincoln quietly through the camp, which is not very big, towards the edge of the woods, when someone sounds the alarm. Lincoln tosses Clarke a sheathed hunting knife when they see a couple of grounders standing watch. They catch sight of them sneaking through the bushes. One of them, Clarke notices, is the one who beat Bellamy with his own rifle and Clarke seethes with rage. As they run towards them, Clarke growls and tackles him, taking him down and pressing the knife at his throat. "Who's going to beg now?" She spits at him. Bellamy shoots forward and takes the rifle from him as Lincoln deals with the other grounder. Clarke clocks him hard enough to disorient him and they get away.

"Come on," Lincoln urges, "Octavia and Lexa are waiting on the other side with horses."

Clarke's eyebrows shoot up, but she follows nonetheless. Soon, there's grounders at their heels, and they rush through the forest until they reach the horses. There's no time to talk. Clarke climbs onto a horse with Bellamy and Lincoln climbs on with Octavia. They gallop the rest of the night.

* * *

By the time they reach Lexa's camp, everyone is too exhausted to have a full conversation. After a day and a half of riding almost non-stop, the horses are about to drop, and Clarke's legs are so sore, she feels like crying. Sasha is with them, and she laughs at Clarke when she walks bowlegged to the tent they've said is hers.

"Oh, sky people, how weak you are." She laughs and Clarke gives her the finger. Sasha probably doesn't know what it means, but Clarke is sure she can guess.

Inside, there's a comfortable cot, a bucket filled with water, some washcloths, and some fresh clothes to change into. There are furs draped over a chair, and Clarke wants nothing but to snuggle into them and sleep for days. She washes first though, and after the cold water cleans her off, she's far too awake to lay in the makeshift bed.

With some doubt in her mind, Clarke walks from her tent to Bellamy's only to find him shirtless and wet. She lets her eyes wander, and she finds scars along the side of his body, and bruises that litter his ribs. He turns his face sideways to look at her, and she sees the swelling on it. Bellamy turns around, tossing his shirt on the narrow cot to his left. She flushes as she sees every muscle stretching under his beautiful tan skin, but it's nothing she hasn't seen before, and she offers to help him clean his face.

"It's fine. I can do it," he refuses her and she hears the hostility in his voice. With everything going on before, Bellamy had no time to consider or ponder on Clarke's response to seeing him again, but he still felt that she was not entirely happy to be found by him, and that, whether he'd admit it or not, wounded him.

"Let me." She said softly, almost pleading. "I need to wrap up your ribs anyway."

He stares at her for a moment and searches her eyes. He can't decipher the look she gives him, all he knows is that she genuinely wants to help. So he nods and turns to splash water on his face

"The bandages are on the table." He offers, and she takes them, waiting for him to turn around. When he finally does, Clarke traces her fingers on his swollen cheek and then on his ribs. They are bruised, but there isn't any sign of anything other than a couple of fractures.

"How much pain are you in?" She asks.

Bellamy shrugs, and flinches almost simultaneously at the motion. She sets her lips in a line.

"It doesn't look like its anything more than a fracture or two. It'll be fine if you just take it easy." Clarke drops her hand. "It doesn't look like I need to wrap them after all."

Bellamy nodds.

"But I need to take a look at your face."

"My face is fine." He argues.

"Will you let me do my damn job for a second?" She retorts, frustrated. He sighs and she forces him down on the cot. She then steps in between his spread legs and holds his face up. He avoids her gaze at first as she drags a washcloth softly against his skin, but eventually he looks up at her, and her look of concentration makes his heart beat faster. He thinks that now that he's found her, he's at a stadstill. What if she leaves again? What if she doesn't want to go back to camp Jaha?

There's only one way to find out.

"We've gotten a lot of construction done at camp Jaha," he says lamely, and he can't tell if this is the start of a sales pitch, or if he's just catching her up. She meets his eyes for a second, pain flashing briefly in them, and then she continues to wipe at his face.

"There are several cabins finished, and they're building one as we speak for the medical staff."

She hums in acknowledgement, and puts the rag down, reaching for the ointment on the bedside table.

"I'm on the council." He says, "It's a win for all of us. The 100, I mean."

She dips her ring finger in the shallow tin can and swipes the ointment on the cuts on his face carefully.

"You could be part of it."

She freezes for a second, dragging a breath in, and she meets his stunning brown eyes again. The stare at each other for what feels like eternity and she breaks the spell by wiping her hands on her pants and attempting to step away.

His hands fly to her hips to hold her steady, and she gazes back at him.

"Clarke," he gulps, "Am I not enough?"

There's a pregnant pause as her face pulls into a frown and her eyes fill with unshed tears.

"I haven't had a nightmare or a painful thought about Mount Weather since we found you." He confesses, flexing his fingers at her hips and looking down, "granted, there hasn't been much time to think about those things, but…"

"You think you're not enough?" She chokes out. And he looks at her with so much pleading that she crumbles and falls to her knees in between his as she chokes out a sob. She's so damn broken, in a million pieces, all because of what she's done, and he thinks it's _his_ fault? She feels sick to her stomach.

"Clarke…" He says, alarmed, trying to hold her up by her shoulders.

"You think you're not enough," she sobs, with tears sliding down her cheeks. She looks up at him and denies the ridiculous idea is even a thought in her head with a hard shake of her head. " _I'm_ not enough. I left you. All of you. And yet you come looking for me as if you owe me." The guilt in her voice is so thick, it shakes Bellamy to the core.

"Did you think we didn't? You saved all of us Clarke." he gazes at her tenderly.

"I murdered hundreds of people,"

"You saved thousands of others." He corrects her, "And for fuck's sake, you didn't do it alone."

His brown eyes hold her blue ones, and the grief in both of their souls is so engraved in their permanent beings, that it doesn't surprise either of them.

Clarke pauses, then nods and leans forward to hug his torso. "I'm sorry for leaving." She breathes in through her nose, and the scent that is just so him fills her up, bringing her some calm. His warm skin pressed against her cheek lowers the tension in her body, and she feels _okay._

"As pissed and annoyed as I was, you have nothing to be sorry for." He says softly. He lowers his face until his lips are on her hair and he hugs her back, holding tighter to him. All he wants in that moment is to hold her indefinitely until she understands how badly it broke his heart to watch her go. Not because she meant to, but because he knew he had to let her go in order for her to heal. He breathes her in, just like she's doing and a slight smile curves his lips upwards. She pulls back a few inches, and keeps her gaze down.

"I was so lonely."

A second passes and Bellamy moves his hands to Clarke's face, making her face him. He caresses her cheeks and looks into her eyes. His gaze lowers to her mouth and lingers for a moment before someone walks into the tent. Clarke stands up and faces the water basin as she wipes her tears. She hears Octavia say that Lexa needs to see them in a dry voice and she walks out right after.

"Clarke,"

"We'll talk later. I'm going to change and I'll see you in Lexa's tent." She says, and walks out of the tent.

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Well, that was in intense chapter! I had written it like 3 weeks ago, and because of the length of it, I was reluctant to go back and edit. But I'm happy with the ending of it, at least.

Thank for reading. Let me know what you think! I thrive on reviews.


	6. Chapter 6

Hello guys! I hope everyone is doing well. Thank you so much for your reviews, they really encourage me to keep writing! This is actually the first fic in my life that has gone this long. I'm so excited! Your favorites and follows give me determination to write, and they've helped a lot.

Anyway, this chapter is a bit shorter than others, but it's got lots of goodies in it. So I hope you enjoy it!

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Chapter 6

Octavia leans against the outside of the dark grey concrete and wood building where Lexa's power room is. Her face is contorted and she seems annoyed, Bellamy thinks. She crosses her arms with a scowl, not afraid to show the disappointment in her eyes and she musters a glare for Bellamy. He approaches her with that swagger that is just, _his,_ and he knows she's about to complain about _something_. The ridiculous situation they have found themselves in will be blamed on him, and he knows it. 'At least it'll give us a chance to talk things out with the commander,' Bellamy decides. And this under better circumstances than before. They've got a common enemy again.

"Don't go in there yet. I need to say something…" She stops him with a hard hand on his chest and pushes him back a couple of steps. Bellamy mirrors the annoyance on Octavia's face and waits for her lecture. It seems funny to him that just a few months ago, he was the one lecturing _her_.

Octavia hesitates, and Bellamy sees a crack of guilt in he façade, but she puts up that hard wall of bravery back up in an instant.

"I thought I'd be happy to find her. I thought I'd be glad…" Octavia pauses as some of Lexa's clansmen pass by them, clad in armor. They are standing behind the two story building that backs up into the warriors' barracks. The wind picks up a bit, and Octavia pulls her vest and furs closer around her. Bellamy looks at her expectantly and Octavia hesitates again. For the first time in her life, she feels at loss for words. Her fingers clench on the fur lapels of the vest and she closes her beautiful eyes to get her thoughts straight.

"Well?" Bellamy insists. Octavia opens her eyes to show Bellamy how much anger is buried in the green orbs.

"She left you."

"That's not news." He says with a scoff, grinning with irritation. "She left all of us. Octavia… you helped me find her, you can't complain now."

"I know Bell, but… Goddammit Bellamy, look at you!" She gestures to him with a swat of her hand, and continues to speak. "You're so damn miserable. She broke your fucking heart and you're still after her."

"She was in trouble." He explains, looking to the ground and refusing to admit the truth about his heart. Nights had passed back at Camp Jaha were he spent the whole night drinking Monty's moonshine and wondering when it was that Clarke began to mean so much to him. He remembered her smiles, her scowls… the way her golden hair fell over her eyes when she was working, mending an ankle, or helping Raven build bombs.

"So what?" She demands, burying her scalding gaze into his.

"It's not like you to leave someone behind, O." Bellamy shakes his head, incredulous.

"You don't know what she did at Tondc. She made you go into Mount Weather, and while you were in there, she was Lexa's little play-thing. And then on top of that, she abandoned all of us."

"I don't care what she did, O. Whatever she did, she did it to free her people. And no one made me do anything," he said, and Octavia already knew all of this, especially that her brother would not be coerced into any kind of situation he was not already willing to go through, but she was just so angry. Livid. And seeing his hands on her face, seeing the vulnerable look in his eyes when he laid his eyes on her… well, it just set her off. She respected Clarke, but blood is most definitely thicker than water.

"She's going to leave again," protested Octavia, jutting her chin forward defiantly, "and this time, I'm not going to help you find her."

Bellamy flinched at her words, and Octavia saw the pain reflected in them. She felt sad for him, but she couldn't find it in herself to offer him comfort.

Clarke watched as Octavia headed around the building and she kept her distance, examining Bellamy's face as he watched his sister leave. He sighed, and looked down at his boots, moving to follow his sister into the commander's quarters.

Clarke dried her tears and followed suit.

Clarke found that her authoritative voice still worked after weeks of disuse, and she used it while talking to Lexa. "You're willing to sacrifice more people." Clarke said flatly.

"We must save our lands, Clarke. We cannot give in to the Ice Queen." She replies.

"Well, I am not going back to Camp Jaha to order men and women who have finally built a home somewhere to surrender, that's for sure. But I'm not willing to lose more people, either."

"The council needs to be told about this." Lexa demands, and she meets Clarke's defiant eyes.

"And it will be our job to let them know," Bellamy interrupts. "Our people don't take kindly to being betrayed." He eyes Lexa disdainfully and she meets his eyes with a stony stare that is more than expected. She turns her eyes on Clarke, and the two have a stare down. He remembers the look of distrust in her eyes when one of her people were poisoned in original talks and remembers how he stepped in front of Clarke as a shield. It wouldn't take much for him to repeat the action.

"I expect to hear your response within the week." Lexa commands, because she does not know how to ask kindly.

"You'll have it." Bellamy replies. They nod to each other, and Lexa exits the room, Sasha and two others trailing behind her. Bellamy turns his gaze on Clarke, who follows Lexa with her eyes keenly; it makes a pang of pain slash through his chest.

 _She was Lexa's little play-thing._

Clarke shifts her eyes to him, and they soften immediately. "Can I have a word?"

Bellamy looks behind him, at Octavia, who rolls her eyes with a huff and leaves the room. Clarke looks down and steps closer to Bellamy.

"She has to know I'm not in a position of power." Clarke says, in hushed tones.

"You don't have to be on the council to have a say, Clarke." Bellamy evens his volume to hers. He's sure no one can her them, they are so close.

"My words will mean nothing once we reach Camp Jaha. Our people have lost their faith in me by now." She says, and there's not hesitation in her tone. She knows, or at least she _thinks_ , they don't trust her anymore.

"Hey," He says, and she looks up at him. "You had to take care of yourself. We get it."

Clarke frowns and says "You get it, maybe. But Octavia is right, I left all of you."

Bellamy deflates and closes his eyes when he realizes she must've heard their discussion.

"Clarke-"

"She's right, Bellamy. You and I both know it." Clarke says with finality. "You have to get back and tell them what's going on. The Ice queen, whoever the hell she is, is coming to take our lands, and we've fought too hard to let her."

" _I_ have to get back?" He says incredulously. Suddenly, there's fire in his veins when he considers the possibility that she won't go back with them.

She opens her mouth to protest, but no words make it out.

"Dammit, Clarke-" He says. But he's too frustrated to form any words, and he grabs her hand and pulls her out of the room, across camp, and back to his tent, while every grounder they pass raise their eyebrows and shake their heads.

 _Damn sky people._

She doesn't fight him, whether it's because she's too exhausted or because she _wants_ him to change her mind, she doesn't know. The walk into his tent and she finally protests. His back is to her and he's looking up, breathing heavily and she assumes he's trying not to say something he'll regret.

"What the hell, Bellamy?" She mutters. He turns around slowly and faces the ground beneath him. Clarke examines his face and falters when she sees fresh tears at the top of he's cheeks.

"We said together." He states. Clarke's knees go weak once again, but she refuses to give in to gravity.

"I know that, Bellamy."

"We said together, and I still mean it." He said, and bore his gaze into hers, causing the damn of her feeling to fissure, crack, crumble. "Do you?"

Clarke's eyes fill with tears and she sees how much pain she's caused him, how on edge he has been, but she also sees his willingness to put it all behind him, to continue on their journey together, and hold her hand for the rest of the time they have on this damned earth.

As if his words had opened a brand new door, Clarke begins to believe that maybe she can move forward, that maybe, although she may not be the good guy, no one is. And that he can help her like he always has.

She nods, teary eyes and all but runs into his arms, which instantly open for her, welcoming and warm. Bellamy buries his face in her hair, and she buries hers in his neck. Her lips touch the sliver of skin between his jaw and the collar of his shirt, and she smells calm and security.

She can't help it; before she knows what she's doing, Clarke kisses Bellamy's neck. Chastely, but all the same surprising. Bellamy runs his hands up from his back to her face, and he pulls them apart slightly, wanting to look at the seas in her eyes. He kisses her forehead with closed eyes and then she looks up at him as she moves her hands to his chest; and for a quiet moment, they breathe into each other before he gently slants his lips over hers. She breathes in sharply, and pushes back on his mouth softly. They stay for a mere second, relishing the moment neither of them knew they would live for, and then they pull back slightly, touching their foreheads with each other's.

"Don't leave me again, Clarke." He says, without opening his eyes. She studies his face and nods tenderly. "I don't think I could do without you again."

"I won't." She whispers, and kisses him again, so soft, that it feels like a slight flutter. He breathes her in, moves his lips to her forehead once again, and she wraps her arms around him.

 _I'll stay._

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As always, this chapter/story is completely unbeta'd so, I'm sorry for any mistakes.

I hope you liked it. Let me know?


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